


Damian and Jon's rooftop romance

by gmartinez12



Category: Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: M/M, approved by SCAR, boysex, damian is 13 and jon is 11, shota sex, underage boy fracking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27222253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gmartinez12/pseuds/gmartinez12
Summary: Damian recounts how Jon has become an insatiable sex fiend, teasing him everywhere they go and making him impossibly aroused even in public. It’s largely his fault for introducing Jon to the wonders of sex, but he doesn’t exactly mind. Damian’s personality and preference for the grandiose, the complicated, and the verbose are on full display in his writing as he remembers a memorable night with his beloved.On the other hand, there is Jon, bright, sunny, and earnest. He mercilessly teases his best friend because he wants to get something from Damian, something extremely important to him...a verbal confession of what they mean to each other. Jon remembers his rooftop tryst with Damian in a far different way, eschewing the dramatic for the candid, his words simple and childlike in their bluntness, but revealing the bare truth of every moment he makes love to his best friend.TL;DR, please notice and appreciate how the difference in writing style reflects each boy’s personality. Arigathanks Gozaimuch! Rhymes are hard.
Relationships: Damian Wayne/Jonathan Samuel Kent, Jonathan Samuel Kent & Damian Wayne, Jonathan Samuel Kent/Damian Wayne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44
Collections: Sin Corps





	Damian and Jon's rooftop romance

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, been a while. Hope you enjoy this short little thing I whipped up. It was just a shower thought but overthinking got me to make it at least something worth reading to. If I'm lucky, maybe you'll think it's funny. Special thanks to Sirius [sirius16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirius16) for helping me with revisions, and my friend Sy for additional proofreading and convincing me to improve my rhyme game lol.
> 
> Thanks for reading my fics!!! I really love talking to you guys and meeting new damijon/jondami fans, so if you want to know more about me and my work, and talk and stuff, I have a twitter over here!
> 
> https://twitter.com/DSupersons (sfw)  
> https://twitter.com/SonsR18 (nsfw)
> 
> Come and say hi! I post fic updates there and I do comic edits too!
> 
> Also, if you discord, mine is gmartinez12#9930 :D

**Damian: Passion and Desire**

****

Something in the air shifts. My skin gets warmer as I glance to the side. My body tensed instinctively from hearing a mere single second of your dulcet tones. It seems that anytime you’re around me, Jon, my body already intuitively knows.

I subtly glanced to the side and there you were, sun shining from your bright eyes from behind a pair of grimy fake glasses. You were laughing at something—another boy was beside you talking, telling a joke, maybe. My cheeks flush with heat, a mixture of jealousy and nerves. How I wanted to be that boy beside you, laughing without a care in the world. But at the same time, a tingle of anxiety creeps up at me at the thought of how drastically sensitive my mind and body feel when I’m around you at all.

I’d forgotten for a moment that I was actually speaking to a teacher. And she had to snap my attention back to her after I zoned out to the thought of you. But then, that’s when you saw me. As abrupt and sudden as my heart skipping a beat at your presence, you came up to me, put a hand on my shoulder, and smiled.

“Hey, D!”

You let your hand linger for half a second longer on my shoulder, and I knew it was intentional. I knew you did that on purpose. Then, without waiting for me to reply, you went on your merry way, beckoning the boy you were walking with to follow. My mouth felt too dry as I watched you and your friend turn the hallway, your arm hooked around his shoulders. For the briefest of moments, just before you disappeared behind the corner, I saw you twirl the boy’s hair with your fingers. The sight of it made the back of my neck prickle and sweat as I imagined your fingers there instead.

The teacher joined me in staring after you and then asked if you were a friend of mine. She seemed to find it odd that I could be friends with someone three grades below me. I stared dumbfounded at her, unsure of what to say.

We were not friends…not anymore. Not with everything we’ve been doing with each other already. Saying you were only ‘just’ a ‘friend’ felt like a gross lie, so much so that I couldn’t bring myself to speak such untruth. The only thing I could muster was a slow nod with the barest slip of the truth.

“He’s…nice.”

Yes, nice would be an understatement to what you are, because I know of no kinder, gentler, and empathetic soul. But underneath that also lay a small seed of mischievousness, one that I myself might have unwittingly planted. I gave you that first sultry taste of the forbidden, and that seed took root, only to bloom when I’m with you. But then there are some moments when even in public, that sneaking vine of mischief peeks out of your rosy personality. Especially when you know I’m watching.

We often took lunch together at school, but sometimes, you have to be with friends in your class. That much, I understand. What I don’t understand is why you mercilessly have to tease me when you know full well that I can’t help but look at you, observe your every moment and gesture, as my senses become hyper-aware of everything involving one Jonathan Samuel Kent. 

You curl your lips and lick a spoon excessively, but you know that to me it was absolutely lascivious. Your mouth puckers on a straw like no boy should, in a manner that I only ever see when you pucker it around something else you love playing with inside your mouth when we sleep together. Your delicate fingers, so smooth and nimble, deftly squeeze condiments out of packets the way you’d coax out my own essence in bed. The subtle nuance of your hands escapes the notice of your innocent-minded troop. But you know, that I know, that these are nothing short of sensual.

A lump forms on my throat, and another where no one can see, as you continued this secret game of charades. I was the player, and I was left to assume how anything you’re doing might be a clue, a reference of any sort, to the kind of things we do in private. As if goading me on, your eyes met mine for a split-second, and you winked.

There it was, playing for an audience of one. It was your clandestine performance that revealed your hidden desires…desires that fed on my own. Whenever you knew I was looking, the performance was on, telling me all the things I can’t do with you while the sun is still up and people are still watching. 

You know that I adore you, but why must you torture me so? Beneath the veneer of wholesomeness that is your public face, there exists that hidden demon of desire. I gave you that first brush with the carnal. I took you into my arms, and took your innocence with my hands. But in doing so, I tainted your pure soul, a taint that becomes a monster under the sheets. You’re a monster of my own making, and there was nothing more I could want than being devoured by you.

Nightfall.

This was the time of day when we could be our truest selves. We don masks to show our real faces, when we cease to be just boys and turn into what we really were…heroes. Every thief we catch and every misdeed we repay is our proof of freedom. In the night, we are free to express ourselves and do what we can do. You can be a hero, I can be a warrior. That we were but children mattered little. Above the rooftops and amid the strokes of neon and shadow, you and I forget our age, and we become simply…human.

And we both know…humans fall in love so, so easily.

Before I knew it, you were clinging onto me, embracing me from behind just as we stopped to rest at a secluded rooftop. It was an endearing gesture at first, your arms around my waist and your head pressed against my shoulder. But then the tiniest of whispers changed everything.

“Damian…please…”

That longing in your breath made my body shudder uncontrollably. I stroked your hand and fell to my knees, my face already burning red from the anticipation. There was no fighting this monster. After all…I was its master.

I lay on my back, our capes folded into a makeshift cushion. I couldn’t even manage a word before you were on top of me, your lips locking onto mine and your hips grinding against me. Your tongue hungrily sought mine out, your urgency tangible from the wanton noises you made. No boy as young as you should be able to kiss so passionately. But this, too, was my sin. I started you on this spiral into depravity, and now you’re running, hurtling down the path and dragging me by the hand. I’ve no power to stop it, nor do I want to. In the night, we are ageless, and we are free. In the night, we are pure, unbridled emotion and unrestrained lust. 

Kissing would never be enough, though. Our costumes were our last vestige of restraint, and that didn’t last very long as we both hurriedly removed that final barrier. The sting of the evening’s chill on bare skin mixed with the intense heat of two boys lost in each other’s eyes. You held my gaze, your eyes intense and fierce as both of us panted in anticipation. Others would see your pure blue eyes as endearing and handsome, but I see them as a vast bottomless sea of  _ want _ that I drowned in every time I saw them. You moved away and my view opened up to the night sky, lit up with a million blinking stars. And stars were exactly what burst in my vision as you took my length in your mouth with nary a pretense or warning.

It was when you suckled on my flesh that I remember how much better you are at it than how I taught you. So many of the little things become instinctual to you even though any instruction I might offer gets lost in pleasured moans. The way your lips firmly stroke it, the way your tongue caresses the very shape of it, the way you pull your head back and plunge in unpredictably…those are things I could never have given words to. And yet, when you pleasure me, it all seems so natural to you. You’re too good at it—so good that I think I wouldn’t last before returning the favor. But then you twist around until your own hairless boyhood was offered up to my face, smooth and eager, twitching with unfiltered excitement. I licked the bead of nectar at your tip before I hungrily swallowed the treat.

In the midst of moaning and slurping, we were lost within our own world. This was our perfect world, where there was only a Damian Wayne and a Jonathan Kent, and the logical conclusion of them falling for each other. It wasn’t so surprising, wasn’t it? In a lot of ways, it made sense for us--two boys with the most unique of circumstances, with the most opposite but complementary personalities, to want each other in every way we could grasp…or kiss…or suck. 

I may have started us down this path, taught you the ways that a boy can love another. But you were the one who taught me just how intense a boy’s passion could be when you allow it. With every lick, with every stroke, with every flick of the tongue, you remind me that there is no distinction between us. We were both each other’s mentor and student, learning about all the ways we could pleasure each other at the same time.

And then, you put a slick finger inside me, and I gasped, clamping onto your thin rod at the same time. This made you arch your back, and then you rapidly thrust into my mouth again, and again. I guess you were so close that you couldn’t help yourself. I didn’t mind that you stopped doing mine to focus on your release, I even welcomed it. With one final thrust, you gave a mighty heave and an ethereal sound escaped your lips. My tongue was met with the little bit of seed that you could offer, but I savored the taste all the same as I reluctantly allowed you to slip out from my lips. 

I expected you to collapse onto me, tired from your climax, but then you kissed my tip and faced me. You took my hands and placed them onto your lean thighs, begging me to guide you as you got down on all fours, in front of my still rigid member. Your expression said it all without a word, and yet I still heard your still-high-pitched boyish tone ring in my mind.

_ “Take me.” _

It was only polite to oblige such a fervent request, of course. Intense heat and blinding pleasure erupted from where I entered you. Your body was so tight, so young, and still so firm. And yet when it came to me, you knew just how to be pliable enough to allow me inside while making me feel that blissful pressure inch by inch. The sensation was almost blinding, but I was far too lost in lust to stop. I gripped your waist and pushed, pulled, and then pushed again. With every thrust, I gripped you even harder, and my skin grew even hotter. Inside, pull, and then push…and again, and again. The urgency inside me reached a boiling point and my pace outran my thoughts. 

_ So warm…there was truly nothing…oh, gods….it was too good…too much! _

All I knew at this moment, was that I needed to be inside you as much as possible, for as many times as possible, for as long as possible. Your body was my bliss, and your moans were the melody of happiness. My thrusts became as instinctive as my breathing. They became as fast as my racing heartbeat, they became as natural and as feral as the rawness of our affection. 

_ Jon, you are everything I…why are you so warm…! _

A tear fell from my eye as I gave one last push, a final note of overwhelming pleasure, and regret that the sensation couldn’t last forever. 

I gave you a bit more of my essence than you did, but it still wasn’t as much as we thought. After all, we were still just boys, barely grown. We were both small in anyone else’s eyes but to each other, we were vast, we were infinite, we were everything. 

I held you close as we recovered, our mutual warmth warding away the cool breeze, lying in a bed of our contentment. I was not known for outbursts or overly dramatic words. At the same time, you were a boy of modest upbringing and a keener sense of tact and discernment. I’ve never said ‘I love you’ to anyone, not to my family, and not even to you. You haven’t said it either, even as we ended up like this, night after night. And yet at this moment, words came to me that were more powerful than any I’ve spoken in my young life. If the sparkle in your eyes was any measure, you understood it completely. You’d later tell me that it was tonight, above every other night, that you loved me as I said…

“Jon, I am yours.”

* * *

**Jon: All I wanted**

****

Everyone I know says that I’m too cheerful sometimes and easy to excite,

That I smile too wide too often and that I laugh too much even in a fight.

But my happiest moments are something they’ll never find out,

Because making Damian moan and squirt is what I’m all about.

With one last squeeze from my behind, Damian yelped and groaned.

My butt felt hot as his dickie jerked and squirted all the juice he owned.

I smiled from ear to ear as he held on to me as tight as he could.

I knew without asking him that I was making him feel insanely good.

I felt a tingle down my spine and my cheeks felt very hot.

A happy Damian is like a perfect sunny day, and I like that a lot!

But then I think I overdid it as his dick slipped out of my rear.

Damian fell on his back unconscious, grinning from ear to ear!

I called out in a fright, "oh no, Damian are you okay?"

His eyes were dazed, guess we did more than our usual play.

His body was limp and loose as if he was a broken old toy.

I didn't realize he could get so tired from loving a boy!

I cradled him in my arms and wrapped our capes around.

I looked like a mom rocking her baby without a sound.

Damian was so peaceful and cute when he was asleep,

It’s easy to forget that a while ago, his dick was in me real deep

He said that I owned him and sure, it pulled at my heartstrings,

But it was so hard for him to say the easiest and simplest things.

I kissed his nose and whispered the line I wished he’d do.

Because all I ever wanted was to say that “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like to have Early Access for Fiction from SCAR consider becoming a beta reader for SCAR or even a collaborator if you have writing experience. 
> 
> [ Also be sure to check out our other content in the collection made by the other sinful members of Scar!](https://tiny.cc/NI0W4)


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